Follows in his Wake
A story about Death and his child. [[User:Albus Chase|'If you don't imagine,']][[User Talk:Albus Chase|''' nothing ever happens at all.']] 19:21, August 4, 2013 (UTC) ---- Modern London was under appreciated. Granted, the air pollution was extremely severe in some areas, but the technological advancements were superb. Overall, the achievements outweigh the failures. Despite the ever-dropping temperature and dreadful weather, there was definitely a beauty to it, albeit an artificial one. On this individual day, the downpour was particularly heavy. Londoners everywhere were holding their daft umbrellas and frantically trying to stay out of the drizzle. Everyone, except for a young boy. He looked roughly seventeen and he was standing in the middle of the pavement. People were barging past him, although he was careful not to let them touch him. But accidents happen. One man slipped in the rain and grabbed the boy's arm. Before the boy could react, the man began to age with rapid speed. The boy, knowing he couldn't stop it, dragged the man into an alleyway. After a few moments, the man was gone, and all that was left in his place was dust. A tear rolled down the boy's face. He waited until the crowd moving past the alleyway dispersed before he sprinted across the road to a park, which he later discovered was Regents Park. The boy continued to sprint up Primrose Hill until he reached the top. "What's happening to me?" He asked himself, panic-stricken. His breathing was shallow due to running so far. "WHAT AM I?" He screamed, scaring birds into abandoning their respective trees. He collapsed onto a park bench and blacked out from exhaustion, having spent the night before fleeing from his family home. When he awoke, he found himself covered in dust. A poor, helpless creature must have stumbled upon him during the night and deteriorated into dust. "Why is this happening?" he asked himself before standing up and brushing the dust off of his jacket. "I keep hurting people- and animals. First it was Susan-" His voice caught on her name; it was too soon to talk about, even to himself. "If I carry on like this," he began. "Then I'll continue to hurt people. But there's a way to end this once and for all without anymore causalities; except one." Before he knew it, his legs were carrying him towards Regent's Park tube station. It was still early in the morning, around six, so there weren't many pedestrians. Once he heard the train coming, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stood at the edge of the platform. The train was seconds away but just before he could end his life he felt a hand on his chest push him back. "Hello, Timothy." The boy - Timothy - opened his eyes and saw a young, handsome man standing before him. "Who are you?" Timothy asked grudgingly as he moved out of the man's reach. "And how do you know my name?" "I am Thanatos," The man began lightly. "God of peaceful death. And you, Timothy, are my son." ---- Timothy left the train station ten minutes later, with "Thanatos" right behind him. He turned around to face the man. "Look," Timothy began reluctantly. "I don't know who you are, but you obviously have some sort of mental disability or something. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." Timothy turned to walk away and found Thanatos right in front of him. He side-stpped and continued walking, but the man followed. "Listen to me, Timothy Webb." He said sternly. "I am your father. How else would you explain the deaths-by-dust you cause?" Timothy's eyes widened in shock. "Yes, I know all about that, Timothy." Thanatos continued. "Its a gift from me." By this time they had reached Timothy's apartment. "So you are my father?" Timothy asked as he opened his apartment door. He walked in and Thanatos followed. "Yes, I am. And your mother was related to Chronos, the god of time. Albeit distantly. Timothy stood still, his jaw clenched. "My son." Thanatos began. "I gave you a gift---" "Enough with all this "I gave you a gift" stuff." Timothy snapped. "You gave me a ''curse!" "It may seem like a curse now," Thanatos began. "But in reality--" "It may seem like a curse?" Timothy shouted, outraged. "So it may seem like a curse if you accidentally turn your one and only sister to dust? And it may seem like a curse if you can never, ever, get close to anyone because you could kill them in a second? Because that definitely sounds like a curse to me!" "Timothy, I understand your rage--" "No you don't." Timothy snapped. "And you never will." "Don't interrupt me, boy!" Thanatos screamed, his eyes full of rage. "I am your father and you will do as I say or so help me I'll--" "You'll what?" Timothy asked with a mocking tone. "You can't just burst into my life and start acting "fatherly," especially considering everything you've done. I want nothing to do with you." "You may feel like that now, but--" "Go. To. Hell." Thanatos pursed his lips and disappeared in a flash of white light. Timothy turned towards his bed and saw, next to his pillow, a pocket watch, as well as a note. It had a pentegram in the middle of the case, with Roman numerals surrounding it. He opened it and saw archaic symbols on the inside of the case. Timothy turned his attention to the note. It had three words on it. For My Son. He collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. "Could things get any worse?" He asked himself. Yes. Yes they could. Category:Albus Chase Category:One Shot Category:Complete Category:Timothy Webb Series (One Shots)